


Don't Know How to Act

by ViciousRhythm



Series: Reylo trope coverage [10]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Rey does not know how to do social situations, Stripper AU, minus the tragic backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 08:54:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6560059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViciousRhythm/pseuds/ViciousRhythm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even Rey can admit she’s being kind of creepy about the guy who lives in her building. But it’s fine, she doesn’t have a problem. Rey can stop any time she wants. She simply…doesn’t want to.</p>
<p>(or Rey keeps staring at her hot neighbor and it's a much smaller world than anyone could've anticipated)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Know How to Act

Even Rey can admit she’s being kind of creepy about the guy who lives in her building. Finn and Poe have informed her of the fact more than a few times, and they don’t even know how often she finds reasons to be inconspicuously within sightline of him. She never liked running in the morning until she realized it was the perfect opportunity to the mysterious guy from the fourth floor stumble his way to work. It’s just that he’s really kind of adorable, with his tall frame huddled over a thermos of what she assumes is coffee like someone might snatch it from him. He even had a pillow crease still on his cheek one morning, and Rey had nearly tripped over the treadmill staring.

But it’s fine, she doesn’t have a problem. Rey can stop any time she wants. She could do her laundry on a different day if she felt like it. She could check her mail at different times. She simply…doesn’t want to.

Poe thinks it’s hilarious how she knows the guy’s schedule as well as a total stranger who’s not actively stalking him could, but Finn at least has sympathy. Rey supported him through his ridiculous and completely unnecessary pining during that embarrassing time period where he thought Poe was straight, so Finn will support her through any romantic nonsense. He even tries to get Poe to lay off when he starts suggesting dates for Rey.

“You should put yourself out there,” Poe insists, leaning away from where Finn is trying to wrap a hand around his stupid mouth. “If you’re not gonna ask this guy out, you’re just gonna get all sad and desperate. I have a friend who just moved here a few months ago, he’s a loner, too.”

“Rey isn’t a loner,” Finn says in her defense, because he is a great friend and not a meddling yenta like Poe. “She’s hanging out with us, isn’t she?”

Rey makes him drop the topic eventually in favor of discussing the wedding. As Finn’s maid of honor, she’s become the de facto wedding planner, so Rey rarely has to work hard to remember there’s a cake tasting or flower shop or suit fitting to be seen to. Finn and Poe are just as excited as they were six months ago when Poe proposed, of course, but both of them are just about useless when they’re too busy making moon-eyes at each other to ask the potential caterers if they have a vegetarian option available.

It’s almost a relief when Jessika steps up to plan the bachelor party. Rey balks at the idea of buying stupid penis-shaped party favors and all the other ridiculousness that goes into a bachelor party. She’ll be there, of course, but Rey isn’t the type of person who could call up a company that sends out strippers for these kinds of things. Jessika, Poe’s friend from flight school and the only person who’s ever won a game of chicken with the crazy bastard, is definitely that kind of person.

The party’s in full swing when the doorbell rings, and Rey stares at the door in confusion. The pizza got here over half an hour ago, and they aren’t waiting on any guests. Thinking it might be neighbors complaining about the noise level, Rey decides to spare the happy couple and deal with the disgruntled neighbors herself.

Only, it’s not the neighbors when she opens the door. Or rather, it’s not one of Poe and Finn’s neighbors. It’s the guy Rey has  _ not _ been stalking for the past month.

“Uh. Hi,” he says, and Rey has never actually spoken to him, so she catalogues his voice immediately like she may never get the chance to hear it again. It’s kind of deep, a little uncertain, and Rey’s hand tightens reflexively on the door.

“Hi,” she echoes. “What are you doing here?” Rey kind of wishes the ground would open up, because that was rude, but another part of her is instantly wary. Did he somehow follow her here?

“I, um.” He stalls out, reaching for something in his pocket, and Rey takes the moment to actually look at what he’s wearing. Either he’s very lost on the way to some kind of almost-formal affair or Apartment Guy just likes to wear a cheap knock-off tuxedo on Saturday nights. He pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket and swipes to unlock it. “This is number 2187, right?”

Rey is about to confirm it for him, followed up by a more insistent what the  _ hell  _ is he doing here, but Jessika rounds the corner before she gets a chance. She lets out a little shriek when she see Rey talking to the man at the door and hurries over, to Rey’s continued confusion.

“Oh, hell yes, the stripper’s here!” Jessika crows, grabbing onto his arm and dragging him inside. Rey doesn’t so much move out of the way as she is too stunned to do anything but let herself be nudged aside so Jessika can guide the stripper – Rey’s  _ neighbor _ – into the house behind her. She stands there for a few more moments, unable to fully process everything that just happened in the past handful of seconds, until a cheer goes up from the living room and Rey jumps a little, slamming the door. The music start before she gets in, and Rey is stunned yet again at the sight of her neighbor, still nameless so far, moving to the beat while taking off his shirt.

To be perfectly honest, Rey is both incapable of watching and incapable of entirely looking away. She mostly catches glimpses of his back and shoulders, head ducked down a bit as she charges toward Jessika across the room. The woman is beaming, watching Finn somehow manage to blush all the way through his dark complexion while Poe is laughing his ass off and possibly trying to wrangle the poor guy into giving Finn a lap dance.

“You actually hired a stripper?” Rey demands, hushed under the sound of the trashy song playing over Poe’s fancy surround sound.

“Why would I make that up?” Jessika asks, laughing. “And hey, he’s pretty good.” She waves her hand in the general area where Rey can see out of her peripheral vision that Finn is not getting a lap dance, but has also stopped doing his best impression of a tomato and started playing along. The party is pretty evenly split between men and women, but it’s mostly the ladies sticking dollar bills in his waistband. Or at least they’re going in his waistband until Rey discovers tear-away pants are not just a thing in movies. She whips around in shock and unstoppable curiosity before she can stop herself, but Rey only gets a chance to determine that he’s got a nice ass before she absolutely has to go hide out in the kitchen.

It’s a bit quieter in there, where Rey can press the back of her hands to her cheeks and feel how warm they are. She must be bright red. Well, at least Finn isn’t alone in that respect. Rey hides out like the absolute coward she is until the music stops, at which point she only manages a short breath of relief before her neighbor’s low voice asks for water and Jessika tells him the kitchen is right through the doorway on the left. Rey manages to make herself look even stupider by scrambling for something to do besides standing there trying to get her blood to leave her cheeks.

She winds up nearly dropping the glass she’d made a grab for, and when he walks into the kitchen – thankfully wearing pants again, if not a shirt – Rey is leaned against the countertop with a glass trapped awkwardly between her wrist and her left shoulder somehow.

“Hey,” she blurts into the silence, unable to stop herself. “You want something to drink?”

“That would be nice,” he says, freeing her up to grab a second glass and fill them both with water so she at least has something to do with her hands. “So, uh, weird seeing you here.”

“Right?” Rey says, possibly a little manic and too loud, so she shoves a glass of water at him to make up for it and does her level best to maintain eye contact even though she has to look up and his chest is  _ right there _ . “I had no idea you were…um.”

“A stripper,” he finishes before taking a sip from his glass. “It’s a side thing, really. Not the job I tell people about.”

They lapse into more slightly uncomfortable silence when Jessika and one of the guys comes in in search of beer, the pair of them standing next to the kitchen sink side by side. When they drift back out into the living room, Rey toys with the rim of her glass between her fingers and desperately wishes she had something witty or interesting to say. All she can come up with, however, is to ask if he always uses the same washing machine for any particular reason, and she’d like not to seem like a psychopath, thank you.

“So,” he says, to her eternal gratitude. “I can keep calling you Treadmill if you want, but my name’s Ben.”

“Rey,” she gasps out gratefully. “I’m Rey.”

The conversation actually flows from there, when Rey has something to comment on, namely her morning exercise and how she hates dragging her ass out of bed so early. He asks why she does it and Rey babbles out something about discipline and not having other time for it so she doesn’t have to admit to taking advantage of the chance to watch him walk to his car. Ben’s expanding on what his other job is – at an accounting firm that Rey finds hilariously boring in comparison – and Rey has almost managed to make herself forget he’s still not wearing a shirt, when Poe and Finn wander in looking for her.

“Rey!” Finn shouts, clearly a bit more drunk than when she last saw him. “There you are!” He goes in for a clumsy but enthusiastic hug, which Rey accepts at the expense of being tipped backward until the counter digs into her back.

“Jessika says you guys are gonna make pre-wedding speeches soon,” Poe says, on his tiptoes to speak over his fiancé’s shoulder. “So we’re supposed to come get you.”

“I’d better get going then,” Ben cuts in. Rey flails a little under Finn’s weight, an inarticulate attempt to stall him that only makes Finn grumble at her. But then Poe puts his hand on Ben’s arm, stopping him with a perplexed look on his face. Ben gives him a similar face in return, and they both quirk up one eyebrow before Poe’s expression lights up and Ben’s looks immediately mortified.

“Fuckin-  _ Ben?” _ Poe sounds thrilled as much as he does disbelieving, leaning over to nudge Finn into releasing Rey and paying attention. “Finn, this is guy I told you about, from high school. Ben Solo. How the hell have you been, man?”

Ben’s face flushes where it had been pale a second ago. “Oh, you know, good,” he says. “Taking off my clothes for my friend’s bachelor party, I guess. Where the hell is my invitation?”

“Probably in the return mail, asshole,” Poe shoots back, knocking his fist against Ben’s bare shoulder. “Since I don’t have your new address.”

“It’s not new,” Ben shrugs. “I’ve been living there for over two months.”

“We sent out the invitations forever ago. Ask Rey, she probably remembers.”

And suddenly they’re both looking at her. If she’s followed right, her neighbor is apparently also Poe’s childhood friend, as well as being the stripper Jessika ordered for the party. The man must have some kind of karma built up to earn a night this ridiculous. Judging by his expression, it’s a tossup which of them is more embarrassed about the turn of events, but at least Ben is getting paid to be here. One thing is for damn sure, Poe isn’t embarrassed in the least.

“Hey, no hard feelings about slapping your ass, right?” he asks, earning himself a glower that doesn’t even come close to looking sincere, and Rey wonders how close of friends they were when they were younger. They seem awful comfortable slipping back into good humor, but then she has no idea how much Poe has had to drink, and he’s amiable with everyone stone cold sober.

“We sent him an invite,” he says to Rey. “Right? Never heard back.”

“That was a while ago,” Rey admits, though she really can’t be sure if she had Ben Solo on the list of invites. If he didn’t RSVP, he’s not on her seating chart and he’s probably in the nebulous guestimate for guests who might or might not show up.

“No worries,” Poe goes on. “Maybe you can be Rey’s plus one.”

“I don’t have a – ” Rey cuts herself off when Ben turns to look at her, a curious mix of polite curiosity and embarrassment and what might be actual interest in his expression. Her eyes dip for a second to his collarbone and from there it’s a slippery slope down his chest before Rey can make herself jerk her gaze back up to his face. He noticed, if the slow, crooked smile on his lips is any indication.

“Yeah,” she says, swallowing hard. “Maybe.”

“Well then, let me give you my number.”

Poe slinks to her side with a grin on his face Rey absolutely does not trust, retrieving Finn and pulling him out of the room in a flurry of whispers. Rey is almost positive they’re gossiping about her, and she’ll be forced to spill every detail eventually, but she ignores them in favor of following Ben to go find his shirt and walk him to the door. Jessika slaps him on the back in passing, offering her thanks, and Rey gets a glimpse of the show she missed on his face. It changes for just a moment, something wicked and arrogant crossing his expression that does things to her she wouldn’t have expected. It’s gone in an instant, as Ben shrugs the suit jacket over his arms on the way to the door, retrieving his phone from the inside pocket.

“I can give you mine,” he offers, “or you give me yours, whichever. I dunno.” The return to their slightly fumbling interaction is comforting, and it gives Rey the confidence she needs to snatch his phone out of his hand and program her name and number into it before she can think better of it.

“You can just shoot me a text,” she says, handing it back over. “Or call me. The wedding’s next weekend.”

“Sounds good.” He smiles at her before walking out, and Rey barely gets a chance to close the door before both Poe and Finn are on her, asking what happened in the kitchen. She dutifully ignores them and proceeds to make her non-family-friendly best man-slash-maid of honor speech in the living room, embarrassing the hell out of Finn right before she actually says something heartfelt, a version of which is actually in her wedding approved speech. In all, the night is a roaring success, and Rey even manages to dodge Poe’s need to matchmake for the rest of the night.

When she gets home, she checks her phone and finds two texts from an unknown number.

 

_ >Would the tux be too much if i’m not in the wedding party? _

_ >Legit with no tear-away pants tho of course _

 

Despite the late hour, Rey takes a moment to program him into her phone as Stripper Ben before replying.

 

_ >>Maybe we can discuss it over dinner? _

 

For a few moments, Rey regrets sending it, thinks she’s far too tired and using less than stellar judgment and definitely coming on too strong. But then she gets reply within thirty seconds and she breaks out into a wide grin, typing out her response quickly.

 

> _ You free tomorrow night? _

_ >>Yes _


End file.
